Working as a police officer in Mexico

The television camera was a bit shaky.

In the streets and alleys of Medellin, many armed militants clutching AKs sat together in groups; some people looked so hungry that their faces were gaunt.

Really...

Medellin is no different from Gaza now, surrounded on all sides, with supplies unable to get in from the outside. You might let the people chew on tree bark, but you can't let the drug traffickers do that. Otherwise, if the people following you can't even afford to eat, what's the point of all this?

If they could endure such hardship, they damn well wouldn't have become drug traffickers.

On television, they were broadcasting Mexico's current political news. They no longer believed the words of those at the top and were more willing to trust their own instincts and eyes.

"At 14:00 this afternoon, the Mexican Prime Minister Casare Gonzalez responded to questions from reporters on the anti-drug operations in Medellin and talked about the handling of follow-up personnel. Here is the live report."

As soon as the female host finished speaking, the camera switched. Casare wore a gray-brown suit, standing beside the police chief in uniform, who solemnly placed his hands in front of him.

The background behind them was solemn, with the Mexican flag prominently displayed.

"To the Colombian drug cartel alliance:

I am the permanent representative of the Council of Ren Lian. At this moment, I make the final appeal to those trapped in the vortex of drug violence on behalf of Ren Lian — this is not a compromise, but the last chance for peace for the Colombian people!

In the past decade, more than 350,000 people in Colombia have died due to drug violence. Every life lost is a scar on the nation! We have deployed the military to block major drug trafficking channels, cut off the financial chain, and have cooperated with Interpol to freeze overseas assets. Those who continue to resist will face ruthless military strikes — you have nowhere to escape!"

"Across Mexico, anyone who dares to oppose us will be eliminated on the spot!"

"But adhering to the principle of healing the sick and saving lives, I, based on Article 52 (circumstances of sentencing) of the Human Progress and Innovation Convention Organization Criminal Code and the powers granted by the Criminal Reconciliation Procedures Act, declare:

All who voluntarily complete the following actions by November 10th will receive the maximum legal leniency:

1. Immediately cease all criminal activities

2. Surrender all weapons, drugs, and criminal assets to authorities within 90 hours!!!

3. Report to the front line Allies to surrender.

Surrenders will receive the following care from the Human Progress and Innovation Convention Organization:

1. Judicial sentencing reduction to a maximum of 95% of the statutory minimum sentence period

2. Priority application of non-violent crime transformation programs

3. Initiation of witness protection plans for those providing key intelligence

4. We will offer a series of privileges to the first 1000 soldiers who surrender, including double-occupancy dormitories and retaining 15% of their personal assets. We swear to God that for the first 10,000 who reach the frontline positions with the surrender letter, we can ensure sufficient meals!

At this moment, Medellin's criminal gang strongholds have been encircled by 28,000 troops. Every hour you delay, the encirclement tightens by one kilometer — when the bell tolls, the door of forgiveness will close forever!

You will drown in the Pacific Ocean; you will be killed on this land of sin.

Do not attempt to resist!

Pablo is dead, and any acts of martyrdom for him are foolish!

This is a particular warning to the group leaders refusing to surrender: your names are already on the Interpol Red Notice!

To the grassroots members — those teenagers forced to bear arms, the farmers coerced into transport: lay down your weapons and step forward; the government will provide you with new identities, vocational training, and land!

We will be responsible for your future life.

All Colombian citizens! Please provide clues via the tip-off hotline: [1840]. Every piece of information will accelerate the end of this nightmare. We have established a reward fund of 70 million Riyals, supervised and distributed by the Human Progress and Innovation Convention Organization!

Casare glanced at the few hundred-dollar watch on his wrist:

The countdown starts now.

Surrender or be destroyed, this is your final choice! So that the mothers of Colombia will no longer weep, for the sake of the children's future — I order you in the name of the constitution: lay down your arms!

…

His voice came through from the television.

Quite a few people saw it in Medellin, but they didn't make a sound, nobody wanted to be the first one to speak, they just looked at each other.

"It seems like they said the first 1000, and you must have the surrender letter with you..." Suddenly, someone said out of the blue, but this sentence instantly shattered the atmosphere.

Hundreds of thousands of surrender letters have been dropped, but who would keep one?

They've all damn well torn it up themselves, or the people above have taken them away.

"Jal! I remember you seem to have hidden one."

A man with a crew cut, a long scar by his eyebrow, suddenly turned to look at a henchman sitting far away and unceremoniously reached out, "Give it to me."

Idiot!

What an idiot.

Being a boss, you can't say things like that in such a public place with such a tone.

What's the surrender letter now?

If you have it, it means you get treated differently from other "captives", and you might even retain your assets.

The Mexicans couldn't possibly lie, saying this in front of billions of people worldwide; they have reputations to maintain, state credibility relates directly to the future.

Don't believe it? Look at India, there's hardly anyone daring to do business there now.

The underling named Jal's face stiffened, his expression somewhat unnatural, and he was a bit upset as he replied sullenly, "No, I threw it away."

The boss's eyebrow twitched, and he exclaimed, "How is that possible, I don't believe you, stand up and let me search you."

These words were rather impolite.

The underling, with a grim face, directly refused, "Boss, your words are unreasonable. No way, I have my dignity too."